Father-hood
by LadyDivine91
Summary: This is basically a collection of stories featuring husbands Barry Allen and Leonard Snart, raising their eight-year-old daughter, Lisa, whom they had using Felicity as a surrogate. So occasionally we'll see some Arrow characters in here, too. These are meant to be more fun than angsty. Coldflash. Barry Allen. Leonard Snart. Captain Cold. The Flash
1. Just Bully

_**Len has an unusual method of helping his daughter get over being bullied (after the fact) that Barry does not approve of, which leads to a heart to heart talk between husband and husband about the bullies in their own lives.**_

 _ **Notes: There is a chance that you've read these before, but as I have turned them into a series, I have decided to gather them together. The last one, 'How Much Is that Doggy in the Window?' is brand new.**_

* * *

"Are these the ones?" Lisa asks, skipping up to the display and pulling a bag of dog treats from the shelf.

"Yup. Those are the ones, Bug." Len puts a hand on his daughter's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Standing beside them, silently disapproving, Barry crosses his arms over his chest.

"And are you sure they're made of what you said they're made of?" Lisa turns shrewd blue eyes up at him, raising a skeptical eyebrow that's so reminiscent of Barry, Len almost laughs and scotches the seriousness of this shopping excursion.

"Scout's honor." He raises a hand and some combination of fingers that are supposed to look like the Boy Scout salute but don't even come close. In fact, what he comes up with looks a little obscene, so Barry grabs Len's hand and lowers it. "At least, that's what your Uncle Mick told me."

"A-ha." Even at eight, Lisa knows better than to believe most of the things that Uncle Mick says are true, but she's willing to let this one slide to make her father feel better. "Okay!" she chirps, cheerfully playing along. "Let's go get them! And remember, I'm paying."

"If that's what you want," Len concedes, even though he has every intention of returning every last cent to her somehow - through random chores, or quizzes on things they don't teach her at school, important things like the five places most people commonly hide their valuables, how to jump start a car, Russian insults, or Len's favorite – target practice.

Len focuses on his little girl hugging the pack of dog treats to her chest, but still manages to notice his husband glaring, his sparking eyes burning holes into Len's forehead. When a fork of supercharged static electricity fries his palm, Len jolts, but he squeezes Barry's hand tighter.

Call Len a masochist, but he loves the sizzle.

"What?" Len asks innocently, dragging his sullen husband to the checkout counter.

"Why do you feel the need to lie to our daughter like this? The situation's handled. This is entirely unnecessary."

"It's one harmless little fib. And it's not even. It's more like a coping mechanism. Besides, if you think she's buying it for a second, then you don't know our daughter."

"It still feels like a lie."

"And knowing you, you'll make sure she knows it before she has too much fun with it. You get to perpetuate the Santa Claus lie. I get this one."

"Santa Claus is different."

"And why is it different? Because it's nice?" Len hisses the word nice. He always hisses that word. It seems to offend him.

"Yes." Barry's voice breaks around hypocrisy he never saw before, but he defends it anyway. Believing in Santa Claus is a time-honored tradition. Barry's mother introduced him to Santa Claus, and regardless of the fact that his own curious and scientific mind negated that belief in his young brain fairly quickly, he held onto it because of her, because sometimes children need to believe in something, anything, to get them through the rough patches. He's not going to let Len besmirch that, even using tools that Barry himself holds dear, like truth and logic.

"Well, I personally think that the concept of Santa Claus should terrify children," Len counters, "but I didn't get a say in that one."

"How? Santa Claus is a kindly old man …"

"… who breaks into people's houses."

"To deliver presents to good girls and boys," Barry points out, except now that he thinks about it, he can see why that might terrify a little kid. He suddenly thanks his husband's sardonic judgment that they ruled out telling Lisa about the Tooth Fairy. An adult with wings who comes into your room at night and steals your teeth? No thank you. "You don't think it's vulgar that you're letting your daughter believe that Bully Treats are made from real bullies? That what her German Shephard puppy is going to be tearing apart is the hide of some kid about her age?"

"Nope," Len says resolutely. "In fact, I think it'll be kind of cathartic. Don't you?"

"No, I think it's nightmare fuel. I think it'll turn into us never sleeping alone again."

Len chuckles. "I think you're forgetting that she moved herself out of our bedroom long before you even wanted her gone. She's a strong kid, Barry. Give her a little credit."

"I still think it's too gruesome for an eight-year-old."

"Why? Because there wasn't anyone in your life that picked on you and pushed you around when you were her age? No one that made fun of you?" Len lowers his voice. "No one that you imagined being torn to pieces? Who maybe took someone important away from you?" Len feels Barry's breathing stop dead, as if it's lodged in Len's own throat; the hand in his becoming rigid, and hot with latent electricity. "And after those dreams were done, how did you sleep? Huh? Like a baby, right? Come on, Bare. You know what that feels like. So do I."

"That's … that's not fair, Len. What happened to us … it's not the same as some obnoxious little kid calling her names." Barry sighs from the depths of his soul. Len pulls him closer, and Barry rests his head against his husband's shoulder. When Barry found out that some punk had been picking on Lisa at school, he knew he had to do the responsible thing - meet with Lisa's teacher and the boy's parents, iron this out like calm, rational educators and adults. But in his heart, he wanted to race down to that school and run that kid up a flagpole, let him hang there fifty feet in the air, blowing in the wind like the piece of garbage he was. And not just because he had picked on Lisa, but for all of the kids everywhere who had ever been picked on by a bully, especially when their bullies got away with it. He wanted this kid to know, and every other kid at that school, that he'd gone after the wrong daughter. Barry knew that it would have made Len proud. Himself, not so much. "I just feel that it might be a bit more reassuring for her to know that her teacher had been talked to and the boy transferred to a different school. That the people in power had her back and appropriate steps were taken to keep her safe. That …"

"The system works?" Len scoffs.

"Yes," Barry says, even though he can understand Len's irritation. The system rarely works. It didn't for them – not when Lewis Snart's son went to school covered in bruises every other day, and the CCPD, Barry's own surrogate family, didn't believe a word out of his mouth about what happened the night his mother died. The system worked this time, but that's because it had a little help.

That might not happen again, when Lisa is older and on her own.

"And why is it again that The Flash talked to Lisa's teacher and not Barry Allen, CSI?"

"Because people respond to superheroes," Barry says, feeling called out. "The Flash is someone that Central City can stand behind. He carries a little more weight than Barry Allen, CSI."

"Well, for the record, I happen to think that Barry Allen, CSI, is just as much of a superhero as The Flash," Len says at a volume that only Barry can hear.

Barry smiles. For all of his cynicism, his snide remarks, and his highly questionable judgment, Len really knows how to get to Barry. "Well, I also didn't want to make it an issue of us against this kid. I wanted to represent all of the kids that he's bullied."

"And the fact that Mrs. Gastmyer would drop her panties in a second for The Flash probably didn't hurt," Len accuses with a growl. It's not an angry growl. It's a playful growl. A I can't wait till later when I can rip off all of your clothes with my teeth growl.

"It's the suit. People respect the suit. It's the same thing with doctors and their white coats."

"I also think the whole saving people's lives factors into that a little bit."

"Hmm. Maybe," Barry agrees. "Anyway, we've gotten off topic. If this is your big lie … I mean, coping mechanism … why do you expect me to eventually tell her the truth?"

"Because, like you said, you're the superhero," Len teases. "And besides, since you're handling the 'sex talk', I figured that bull dicks fall under your purview."

"You know, you threw Mick under the bus for this one. We could just make him do it."

"Yeah, well, that depends on how much new and colorful information you want our daughter to learn before she turns nine. She might have to transfer schools, too."

Barry scowls, recalling the last time Mick came over. Somehow, and Barry has no clue how, the subject of shanks came up. Thanks to Mick, Lisa now knows how to transform innocuous plastic cutlery into weapons, a skill she shared at The Boys and Girls Club to the amusement of no one. "You're right," Barry groans. "I'll tell her … but I'll give it a few weeks."

"That's all I ask."


	2. The Talk

_**One day, while spending some time with his eight-year-old daughter, Lisa Snart asks her father a question that stops him in his tracks, and as much as Len would prefer Barry field this one, he realizes that the only responsible thing to do is give her an honest answer.**_

* * *

"Oh, oh, oh. Hey, Bug. Let me help you up," Len says, rushing across the frozen lake to collect his daughter from the ice.

"Thanks, Dad," Lisa says, accepting his help but struggling to get back up on her skates before her dad reaches her.

Len grins. That stubborn streak. That willingness to accept help as long as she can still do most of the work by herself - that's the Barry Allen in her.

That's what Len sees most when he looks at her.

Since she pretty much has herself handled by the time he gets to her, he moves on to step two on the overprotective father's checklist and starts looking her over for cuts and bruises.

"What happened out there, Bug?"

Lisa watches her dad brush snow off her clothes, a condescending smirk on her rosy lips. "I fell."

Len rolls his eyes. Only eight-years-old and she's already such a smart ass. "I know you fell. But did someone push you? Trip you?" Len glares at a cluster of boys around Lisa's age who he's been keeping an occasional eye on. He notices that they're joined at the hip, convening over somethingwhile shooting suspicious looks at the two of them. He thinks he sees them laughing … the little bastards. "Is there someone I gotta ice?"

"No," Lisa says through a burst of laughter. "No, I just fell. All on my own. With no help from anyone."

"Okay then." Len stands to his full height and glares at the boys again to make sure he gets his unspoken point across. The boys, each one turning sheet white, disperse, speeding as far across the lake as they can and away from the hard-eyed man with the icy stare. "So, whaddya wanna do now? Hmm? You wanna head for the homestead?"

"Maybe in a bit." Lisa thoughtfully chews her chapped lower lip. "But first, would you take a lap with me?" She holds out her gloved hand for him to take.

Len raises an eyebrow – not at the request, but at the shy, unsure way she asks. She sounds like she has something heavy on her head. Actually, she's been like that, way too caught up in her own thoughts, since she came back from her weekend in Star City.

"Sure I will," he says, taking her hand and pulling her slowly around the ice.

The conversation seems to end there and they walk in silence, the shhhing … shhhing of Lisa's blades cutting across the surface of the lake the only sound around them, and Len starts to wonder if she's changed her mind. What does he do about that? Does he ask her what's up? Or does he give her space and wait? Barry's the one who usually fields the difficult life questions – where do babies come from; why do boys have a penis and girls have a vagina; what happens after we die; all of those, with a little help from the folks down at S.T.A.R. Labs. Len should consider it a blessing if she decides to defer to the one parent who's been able to make life seem less scary for her.

Though, he does have to admit that it sucks feeling like she can't come to him with her problems. Or maybe she just hasn't come up with a problem that she feels he's qualified to handle.

In which case, whatever's on her mind should slightly terrify him.

It's when they reach a third of the way around that she finally says, "Daddy? Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me anything."

That seems to give her the courage to ask what she needs to ask, because she goes from chewing her lip to blurting out, "Daddy, did you used to be a villain?"

Except that, Len thinks. But he takes a breath in and sighs instead of saying it. "What makes you ask that?"

"Something I heard Mom say."

"Really. And what did Felicity say?"

"Well, she was talking to Uncle Ollie about how this will be the sixth anniversary of taking Leonard Snart off their most wanted list."

"I see," Len says, not thrilled that this was the topic of conversation during one of Lisa's weekend visits with her mother. "Your mom and her (he hard swallows, stopping himself before he can say the word rat) husband were just talking about that in the living room or the kitchen where you could hear?"

"Uh … not exactly," Lisa admits, returning to nervously chewing her lip. "They were … kind of … in some secret lair in the basement," she speeds out at the end.

"So, you were spying?" Len admonishes, while inside he thinks That's my girl.

"Maybe."

"Did you ask your father about this?"

"A-ha."

"And what did he say?"

She takes a deep breath in preparation, and Len knows that whatever her father told her, it's most likely poetic and long-winded. "He said that you were an intelligent, cunning, creative man with a difficult path to walk, and that you did a lot of things, both good and bad, with great passion. But that the more he got to know you, the more he saw good in you." Len chews his cheek, trying to keep from laughing. That sounds like the vague but complimentary b.s. that Barry Allen would spin. Plus, he's gotten a lot of mileage out of that seeing good in him comment. Not only did it get Len into bed (not that Barry had to try too hard), but it opened the door to Len gaining acceptance from the rest of The League of Super Geeks that Barry is a part of. "Other than that, he told me to ask you. He said it wasn't his story to tell."

Len's mouth pulls into a thin, unamused line. Barry passed the ball. That's so unlike him. At least he didn't go the route of spilling the gorier details. Not that he would. That's not his style. He left the dirty work to Len. But, then again, Len deserves it.

Len thinks for a moment, trying to decide what he should tell. Where does he begin? He had wanted to leave his past in the past for as long as he could, especially where his daughter was concerned.

But that's the thing about running from the past. When you least expect it, it catches up with you.

"Lisa, you are an intelligent, cunning, creative little girl …"

Lisa grins. "Just like you, Daddy?"

"Yup. Just like me." And he means it – from her stunning blue eyes to her sharp wit, she is every inch Leonard Snart's daughter. She has Barry's aptitude for science, and her mother's exceptional math skills, but those can be taught. She also has Len's dry sense of humor, his quick thinking in survival situations, and his eye for an easy mark – something the two of them hone in secret, playing around with hypotheticals just for fun. "Except that you are much luckier than I ever was. You have a mom who loves you, two dads who love you, and a ton of aunts and uncles who love you …"

"One of who's an alien!"

"Shhh, yes." Len drops his voice to a significant whisper and sweeps his eyes around, checking to see who might be listening. The gang of boys is nowhere to be seen, and no one else has arrived. They have the lake entirely to themselves. "One of who's an alien. But I'm going to tell you some truth about me because I think you can handle it."

Lisa swallows and squeezes his hand, suddenly afraid. "O-okay."

"I didn't have all of that, Lees." Len squeezes her hand back, finding he's doing it more for his comfort than for hers. "I had a mom who loved me, but she died early, and your grandpa …" He halts, deciding that Lewis Snart doesn't deserve the honor of having his granddaughter know a blessed thing about him. "I try to forget that he even existed. I spent most of my life raising your Aunt Lisa, and I'd like to say I was good at it ..."

"She says you were."

"She does, huh?" Len doesn't know if he's questioning, scoffing, or agreeing. "Well, whether I was or not, it's hard to escape your upbringing. I wasn't raised to be a good man. I was raised to be a criminal. And that's what I became. So, yes. I was what you might call a villain. In fact, your father, your mother, your aunts and uncles, and I all met because I was trying to …"

"Do bad things to them?" Lisa circumvents, replacing whatever her dad was about to say with words she's willing to accept.

"Yeah. I was trying to do bad things to them. Your father even put me in prison, but I busted out. After that, a bunch of stuff changed."

"You went on the Waverider."

"Yup."

"You became a good guy."

"In a manner of speaking."

"And then … you died." Lisa sniffs, as if she isn't talking to her dad in the flesh, the man holding her hand, very much alive.

"In a way." Len looks into Lisa's solemn face, pulling the goofiest grin he can to get her to laugh. She smiles, but only half way. "I shifted out of existence to a different timeline."

"But Father found you and brought you back."

"A-ha. That's when we decided to get married and have you. It was hard finding someone willing to carry you, all things considered …" (which is Len's polite way of saying that most women didn't want to carry the child of a reformed criminal, especially one with a rep like Len's, for any amount of money) "… so after a long and exhaustive search, your mom offered to carry you for us."

"But then you went back to being bad." Lisa's voice takes on a surprising tone, a reproachful tone, and it breaks his heart.

"I left," he admits, "for about two years. I didn't think that I could be good for you. I thought the best thing I could do for you was leave. I went back to being a criminal because it was the only thing I really knew how to do."

Lisa stops skating. Her head drops, but she doesn't take her hand from Len's grasp, and that gives Len hope. It means that, regardless of how much hearing that her dad left her to be a villain again hurts, she doesn't hate him for it. Len gets down on one knee in the snow, bending low to catch his daughter's eyes. "But I came back. So if you haven't guessed by now, you're the reason I stopped."

"Why?" Lisa asks with a tiny shrug.

"Because when you live your life for yourself for so long, you answer to nobody. Your successes, your failures, they're all your own. And that's good for a while. But when someone depends on you, looks up to you, you answer to them. I know what your Aunt Lisa told you, but I kinda failed at that with her. I tried to be the best big brother I could be and take care of her, but I was a young man, and kinda selfish." Len brings his forehead to rest against Lisa's, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "But I'm not that man anymore. And if I am still selfish, it's because I want what's best for you. And what's best for you was hanging up my cold gun for good."

"Do you mean it?" Lisa asks, tears rolling down her cheeks. Len raises a hand and clears them away quickly before they can freeze. Len has a thing for not letting ice touch Lisa's skin, which is one of the reasons he's so quick on the draw whenever she falls on the lake.

"Yeah, I mean it," Len says, pinching her sides until she starts giggling. And when she does, she throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight.

"I love you, Daddy."

Len holds her in his arms and sighs. "I love you, too, Bug." And it's at times like this when he realizes just how much. She's a mixture of everything in the world that he loves, the most precious thing that's ever been his. No diamond in the universe could compare. He'd give up his life to protect her, loves her just a hair more than he loves her father. Having someone like that in his life is frightening, but only because he doesn't want to let her down. "So, whaddya say we head on home and make dinner for your father? I don't have eight layers of clothes on like you. I'm freezing my ass off out here."

"Daddy! Language!" Lisa scolds, lifting her feet obediently while Len affixes guards to her blades so she can walk the short distance to their house. Len shakes his head in minor disbelief when he gets the last one on, her tiny skate in his hands nailing some big facts home. A beautiful house by a lake in a quiet suburb in Missouri, with a husband and, of all things, a kid. It seems like a dream, one that was never Len's. But here he is … and he can't picture himself being anywhere else.

"Now that sounds like your father," Len kids, picking Lisa up anyway, preferring to walk home with her in his arms.

"Well, I'm both your daughters, so it only makes sense."

"True, true," he agrees. "So" – Len clears his throat – "you got to see Oliver Queen's secret lair, huh?"

"Yeah," Lisa says in a hushed and excited voice. "Do you wanna know what it looks like?"

"No," Len answers without thought, his gut telling him that he's not a criminal anymore, so by no means is he interested in the secret base of operations of the one and only Green Arrow … except, he is interested. He's hella interested. "Well, you know, since we've got a ways to walk, why don't you just fill me in on the basics."

"Like what?"

"You know – size, location, ease of access, armament … just … anything you think I should know … hypothetically speaking, of course."


	3. Welcome Mat

_**While doing some father/daughter bonding, Lisa has a heart-to-heart with her dad about his last (albeit brief) stint in jail.**_

* * *

"So, kiddo," Len grunts, pulling himself along down the narrow passage – narrower since he has Lisa by his side - using his elbows and knees to inch him along, "how's (grrr) summer going?"

Lisa, having less of a problem slithering through the duct than her father, sighs. "It's alright. I'd rather be spending the summer with you, though."

"Sorry about that. But, you know, your dad's busy, and I was a little (mmph) detained."

Lisa stops crawling and shoots him a look. "You were in prison."

"A-ha, but it's not like I fell off the wagon or anything. It was the first time in three years. (Mmph!) And this time, it was a misunderstanding. That's why they let me out so quick."

"That, and dad's a superhero."

"True. But I'm a good guy, too, remember? One might even say (mmph) a legend."

"Do good guys break into buildings?" Lisa asks, eyeing the vent around them for emphasis.

"When they need to." Len looks at his daughter, her gaze shifting to the metal beneath her. "Don't be disappointed in me, Bug. Old habits die hard. But this isn't business. It's pleasure. Besides" – A wicked grin spreads across Len's face – "we're doing your Uncle Ollie a favor."

"And what's that?"

"We're showing him the gaps in his security system."

"I guess …" Lisa accepts begrudgingly.

"Tell me something - why are you having such a dismal time here? Oliver Queen is a billionaire. Aren't you guys doing anything fun?"

"Yeah … sort of. I mean, we're going to Disneyland in a few weeks, so that's kind of cool. But …"

"But?"

"So far, it's been so boring. And labor intensive."

Len raises an eyebrow, curious about his daughter's definition of labor intensive. "How?"

"Well, Uncle Ollie's made a whole training schedule for me, and it starts at six in the morning!"

"Oh yeah?" Len chuckles. At home, Barry can't get her out of bed before nine. He wonders how old Oliver managed to do it. Maybe he can give Bare some pointers. "What's he got you doin'?"

"Target practice, boxing, obstacle course, and something called a Salmon Ladder."

"Jesus! And what does your mom have to say about all that?"

"Not much. When Uncle Ollie gets on the Salmon Ladder, she becomes real quiet."

Len snickers. "I bet."

"It's not all bad. I actually enjoy boxing. And I think I'm getting pretty good with a bow and arrow."

Len reaches over and rustles Lisa's ponytail. "Don't go off and become a vigilante on me."

Lisa stops, thoughtfully considering her hands. "If I did, would I have to go after you?"

"No, Bug," Len says – quick and simple. "Cuz, like I just told you, I'm not the bad guy anymore."

"I know. I just …" She shakes her head, looking sad and guilty. "When you got picked up by the police, I thought … I thought …"

Len bumps her shoulder when he hears tears in her voice. "Hey. Don't sweat it. It took a long time for your dad to trust me, too. And I'll admit, I used that to my advantage. I messed up a lot, and he always had my back – more than I deserved, if you ask me. But I won't do the same thing to you. I won't let you down."

"You promise?"

Len offers her his hand. "I pinky promise."

Lisa giggles, linking their pinkies together. Len leans in to kiss her on the forehead.

"You can't get rid of me, Bug," he whispers. "I love you too much. I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Good," she whispers back. "Cuz I'm gonna keep you."

The sound of metal against metal pulls their attention above their heads, to where one panel of the ventilation shaft starts sliding away, revealing two disgruntled faces staring down at them.

"Hello, Lisa. Snart."

"Hi, Uncle Ollie," Lisa says with a sheepish smile. "Hi, Mom."

"Felicity. Oliver," Len returns, acknowledging Felicity first on purpose. "How kind of you to greet us personally."

"No problem," Oliver says. "Though I do prefer it when visitors call ahead of time … and when they use the front door."

"We were … uh … testing the security system?" Lisa gulps when she sees, by the hardening of Oliver's jaw, that her explanation has fallen flat.

"Good try," Len says, offering his support.

"Young lady!" Felicity addresses her daughter with brows drawn together and arms crossed. It's the sternest she can manage. She resembles a small, blonde dog protecting its territory, and Len has to bite back a laugh. "We talked about this! We have rules here. And rule number one is …"

"Don't help my father break in," Lisa finishes. "I know."

Oliver puts a wrist to his mouth, speaking into a communicator in his watch. "Barry Allen."

"Uh-oh." Lisa slides closer to Len. "He's calling dad."

"Yeah, Oliver. What's up?"

"Come pick up your husband, please."

A long, exhausted sigh is Barry's response. "How far did he get?"

"The cooling shaft above main containment."

"That's farther than last time."

"He had help."

"Lisa!"

"Hi, Dad!"

"Now, don't blame her, Barry," Len puts in. "It was my idea. Sort of a father/daughter bonding exercise."

Barry's next remark comes through with a crackle of static, letting them know he's on his way. "I'll bond you!"

"Why, Barry. Such talk in front of our child. Perhaps you should wait until we get home before you …"

A streak of electricity cuts Len off. With a flash, a gust, and a clipped, "Sorry, Oliver," Len disappears. Lisa is left with a quick peck on the forehead from both her dads as they zoom out of The Foundry, disappearing in a blink.

"And as for you …"

"I know, I know …" Lisa groans, climbing out of the shaft with her mother's help "… I'll go hit the Salmon Ladder."

Oliver and Felicity watch Lisa go, hopping over pipes with an ease that makes Oliver straighten up and take notice.

"That little girl is every inch her father's daughter," Felicity comments, shaking her head and leaning into Oliver's side. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close.

"Tell me again - why did we think it was a smart idea to help Leonard Snart, of all people, have a child that would end up with your brains and his penchant for breaking into secret lairs."

"They make Barry happy," Felicity replies, kissing her husband on the chin. "And we like making Barry happy."

"So, we helped Leonard Snart have a baby … to make Barry Allen happy?"

"Yup." Felicity pats Oliver on the cheek, then follows Lisa out. Oliver shakes his head, watching her go.

"I think we really have to re-evaluate your friendship with Barry Allen."


	4. Competition

_**Oliver Queen's attempt to bridge the gap between himself and Len and Barry's (not to mention Felicity's) daughter Lisa is temporarily thwarted when her dads get in the way.**_

 _ **Or, are they?**_

* * *

Work Text:

"It's my turn."

"No, it's not. It's my turn."

"You screwed up your turn, so now it's my turn."

"That's not how the game is played, Len!"

"Too bad! It is now."

"How's Lisa doing?" Oliver asks, coming up behind a giggling Felicity standing outside her daughter's door.

"Better since you let her dads visit for the week," Felicity whispers, eyes glued on whatever's going on inside. With the door open only a crack, Oliver can't completely see in. He rolls to the balls of his feet in an attempt to take a peek before he has to resort to accessing the security system via his phone for a better view. "It's made her calmer, more focused. Just them being here … she's a whole different girl."

"Good," he says as if evaluating the progress of a new employee. "Well, you and Barry vouched for Len. As long as you two are keeping an extra close eye on him …"

"Barry said no to the tracking device, if that's what you're asking, but he swore he'd keep his husband in check." She looks up at her husband and bats her eyes. "Have a little faith."

"How is she liking the game?" Oliver asks excitedly. This was his first official attempt to connect with Lisa on her level. Yes, going to Disney was his idea, but that was a decision bred mostly from logic: Lisa was a kid. Kids love Disneyland. Aside from rigorous training and coding drills, there was little for a child to do at The Foundry. They couldn't keep Lisa on lockdown all summer. Ergo, going to Disney was a practical decision. But he came to the realization (after she'd helped Len break in for the third time), that he was an outsider in her life. A guardian as opposed to a family member.

An acquaintance.

And he didn't like that.

He wanted a different relationship with her. He had to stop thinking of her as Leonard Snart's kid and remember that there was a great deal of Felicity inside her, too. He couldn't exactly see himself being a third father to her.

But maybe he could be her friend.

So, to cross that gorge, he bought her a computer game. One he had loved as a child.

Oregon Trail.

He remembered spending hours on that game, strategizing the best ways to deliver his small, pioneer family to their destination with a limited number of casualties and the largest percentage of supplies intact. He took into consideration the value of animals as opposed to human life, determined who in his party was most expendable, and the best way to counter potential disease. He calculated which routes were least likely to find them besieged, and compensated for time accordingly.

God, he loved that game.

Lisa was an intelligent, logically minded little girl, advanced beyond her years. She would conquer it in a snap with the same gusto Oliver had, he was certain of it.

And then, the two of them would have something aside from Leonard Snart to talk about.

"She's … not actually … playing it," Felicity confesses, her heart breaking with each word over the prospect of hurting her husband's feelings. She knows how much giving Lisa that game meant to him, what a huge step it was.

"Oh?" he says in the tight voice she'd expected.

"Yeah. But, there's a plus side to her not playing the game."

"Really? And what's that?"

"Len! Jesus Christ! We needed three oxen to pull the wagon! Not two! Three! It said so right on the damn screen!"

Felicity snickers. "It's … uh … helping Barry keep Snart in check."

"It said it was a recommendation, Barry! A recommendation! If we'd spent the money on the oxen, we wouldn't have been able to afford enough bullets to protect us on the way to Soda Springs!"

"What do the bullets matter if two oxen can't pull the wagon!? Do you expect us to get there on foot? Jane's health is very poor!"

"I do expect us to eat! And maybe, just maybe, not get slaughtered by Indians!"

The computer they're using makes a noise and, from the little Oliver can see over Felicity's head, Barry throws his hands in the air.

"Way to go, Len! Are you happy? Now the whole party's got dysentery!"

"Don't blame me! Blame Jane! How the hell did she get sick!? We should have left her ass behind at Fort Bridger!"

Felicity clamps a hand over her mouth, trying her hardest not to laugh too loudly, while Oliver, with the slightest smile on his face, shakes his head.

"So, if they're in there," he asks, less disappointed than he was a second ago, "where's Lisa?"

"Fixing that glitch in the tracking system on your new heat seeking arrows."

"Oh," he says, pleasantly surprised. Better focused indeed. "Is she done?"

"Just about."

"Good. Very good." He puts his hands on Felicity's shoulders as Len says, "Best three out of five."

"Fine," Barry agrees. "Do you think you can keep us from getting dead this time?"

"That depends. Can you keep your trap shut and let me win the damn game!?"

"Well, I guess we'll leave them to it." Oliver steers Felicity away from the door, eager to get to the lab and see how Lisa is doing. Commiserating about Oregon Trail would be nice.

But talking shop over heat seeking arrows is a helluva lot better.

"Yup," Felicity says. "Compared to a million dollar tracking device, that's the best $13 you've ever spent."


	5. How Much Is that Doggy in the Window?

_**After little Lisa makes a surprise discovery, Barry and Len end up dredging up an age old argument - whether or not to get their daughter a dog.**_

* * *

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" Lisa squeals, leaping straight into Barry's arms the second he comes to a stop in their living room.

"Thank me?" He wraps his daughter in a huge bear hug, confused as all get out. "Thank me for what? Len?" Barry takes off his hood and looks at his husband, sitting like a king on his throne in his La-Z-Boy recliner. "What's going on? When you called, you said it was urgent."

"It is, in a sense," Len starts, being obnoxiously vague as always when Barry wishes he would just answer a straightforward question with a straightforward answer for once. "It seems that our little Lisa here figured out that we've been planning on getting her a dog."

"What?" Barry asks, caught between pissed and paternal. Yes, the ever continuing 'dog' discussion is an important family saga, but it's not exactly urgent. On the flip side, he wasn't doing much down at S.T.A.R. Labs other than monitoring street cams in the industrial district. "Didn't we specifically say no dog?"

"Oh, you don't have to keep up the act, Daddy," Lisa says, kissing him on the cheek. "I know you wanted to wait for my birthday but …" She sighs, her expression slipping from effervescent smile to apologetic frown "… I'm sorry I snooped. I'm sorry I found the collar."

Barry's confusion drops off his face like a rock, along with his jaw smacking to his chest. "Wh-what … wh-what collar?"

"The collar we've been hiding in that secret drawer beside our bed, Barry," Len explains with a smirk.

"Uh, didn't you make it perfectly clear that that drawer was off limits?" Barry asks, setting Lisa gingerly on her feet.

"A-ha. But apparently a little birdie told her that's only because that's where we hide all her presents." Len stands and puts his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "And poor, impatient Lisa couldn't resist."

"And did you ask her who told her that?" Barry asks, teeth clenched tight. He suspects her Aunt Lisa, whom she was named after. Though, considering the company they keep, it could have been literally anyone on either side of the law.

Like Mick.

Yup, it had to be Mick, Barry decides. Pulling a prank like this is a very Mick Rory thing to do.

Barry's just glad he kept it relatively PG … and non-lethal.

"Of course I did, Barry. Who do you think I am?" Len says with a wink, tongue-in-cheek reminding Barry how, in the past, his interrogation techniques were renowned in the underground.

"And what did she say?"

"She says she's no snitch."

"And you accepted that as an answer?"

"Accepted it? I respect it. She has honor." Len beams down at his daughter's glowing face. "I think that alone should earn her a dog."

Barry looks at his daughter, staring up at him with excitement and hope-filled eyes. They shouldn't be having this argument in front of her, especially since she's about to be overruled. "Excuse us for a moment, Peanut. I have to talk to your father alone."

"Ok, Daddy," she says, plopping down happily in Len's chair.

Barry grabs his husband's arm and zips him out of the room, onto the front porch.

"She doesn't deserve anything if she's invading our privacy!" Barry scolds in a whisper, not certain Lisa won't be listening at the door.

"Be happy she stopped at the collar, Barry. You and I both know there are way more psychologically damaging things in that drawer than that. Besides, what do you have against her getting a dog? I, for one, think it's a good idea, considering you're a superhero and I'm an ex-con. A Rottweiler or a pit bull might be good investment for the whole family."

"We have a security system! A good one! The best! There are eyes on her at all times! But that's not even the point. It's the principle. We laid down a law …"

"A stupid law if you ask me."

"Who's going to take care of it?" Barry switches gears because, of course, his husband would have no respect for rules. "I'm barely at home during the day …"

"I'm a house-frau now. I'll take care of it. And so will she. Bare, you can't say no to her now. Not after …" Len can't finish, snickering at the ridiculous reality of this little coup. Besides, in order for Lisa to get into that drawer of theirs, she had to have picked the lock.

Len is too proud over that to be upset.

"Len, this is not the way this is supposed to work! If she wants a dog, she needs to earn it!"

"By doing what? She's already a straight-A student. She keeps her room clean, she makes dinner more nights than I do, and according to Felicity, she's been troubleshooting most of Oliver Queen's latest tech. What more do you want her to do, Barry? Save the world?"

"We need to talk things over," Barry insists. "Hash them out. We need to discuss pros and cons, feeding and walking schedules, lay out some ground rules."

"You and rules," Len scoffs.

"Getting a dog is a huge responsibility!"

"More so than keeping your identity a secret? Because our kid has been doing that her entire life."

Barry glares. "That's not fair. That falls under the category of extenuating circumstances. I want to handle this the way a normal family would, Len, because that's all I ever wanted for Lisa. Normal."

"I hate to break it to you, Red, but you and I both failed at that right from the conception stage. Lisa's not normal. She's brilliant and talented, and more than likely will grow up to be a super-human crime fighter with a computer brain. And her life isn't normal. It's complicated. Severely complicated. In fact, getting her a dog is literally the most normal thing you can do for her, so let's get her the damn dog!"

"That's not a decision we should be making right now. Not while we're arguing."

"So what do we do? Huh? She already thinks she's getting a dog."

"Well, she's mistaken. She needs to understand that she's not going to get rewarded for messing around with things she has no right messing around with."

"Ha!" Len barks, stepping in to his husband's space, the shadow of a vengeful gleam veiling his eyes. "Two words, Barry Allen – time line."

"Timeline is one word," Barry retorts, clearing his throat of the awkward. "Lisa's a big girl. She's mature for her age. I'm sure that if we tell her the truth, she'll understand."

Len shakes his head. "Barry, if she's mature enough to know that her parents have a collar kink, then she's mature enough to own a dog. But, if that's the way you feel about it, fine."

"Good," Barry says, a triumphant and relieved smile on his face. "I'm glad we agree."

"For the record, we don't agree," Len says. "But at least, this time, I won't be the bad guy."

"Whatever." Barry reaches for the door handle, but stops when he notices his husband retreat to the porch swing and sit down. "Aren't you coming?"

"Truth is your territory. So have at it, Flash."

"Nice." Barry takes a deep breath and braces himself. Just because he won this argument doesn't mean he's looking forward to breaking his daughter's heart. She's wanted a dog for forever. And that look on her face when she leapt into his arms? That's the happiest she's been in a long time. But happy or no, he's made up his mind.

He will not be manipulated into giving in, even if this whole thing did start with a misunderstanding.

He opens the door and walks into the house. He spots Lisa, rocking in the recliner and looking at her phone. He catches a peek at her screen and his heart deflates. During the course of his and Len's conversation, she had started scrolling through a Pinterest board she'd made titled 'Dogs of my Dreams'. She was adding to it – tiny little tea cup dogs, Pomeranians, Chihuahuas, poodles, and such.

He approaches his daughter slowly, preparing himself for the worst conversation of his life. A creak in the floor causes her to lift her head, and the smile that lights her face at her father's approach is positively blinding.

Barry swallows hard. "Lisa?"

"Yeah, Daddy?"

Ugh. She called him Daddy. This is going to be impossible.

"There's something I need to explain to you … about that collar."

"Yes?"

Barry crouches down in front of her, meeting her eye to eye. "You see, sometimes when you buy a collar, it's for a dog."

"A-ha …" Lisa giggles, rolling her eyes as if to say duh!

"And sometimes, two people … two grown adults who don't own a dog, might buy a collar to …"

"Yeah …"

"Well, they might buy a collar because …"

"Because …"

Barry looks at Lisa's face, at that thousand-watt smile dimming with every second of this asinine explanation. Is he really going to do this? Is he really going to tell his beloved daughter that she can't have a dog, and that that collar she found is one of among a dozen of her two fathers' favorite sex toys? That the last time they used it, Barry himself was wearing it, and Len was riding him like bronco, growling in his ear and smacking his ass?

No. He can't do that. What responsible parent would?

When Barry first found out he was going to be a father, his own father gave him some valuable life advice. "Pick your battles," he'd said. "Because things will come up that you'll never dream of, things that you would hope to never handle. But, in the end, when you're debating right and wrong, you'll have to decide – are you doing what's best for your child? Or what's best for you? Because, surprisingly, the two aren't always the same."

So Barry has to choose between psychological trauma or pet dog?

When he thinks of it in those terms, the answer is quite simple.

"Because they have a particular dog in mind," he covers, smiling to match hers, to bring it back up the few notches it had fallen. "And the ones you're looking at are way too small."

"Really!?"

"Really! I mean, how are you going to play catch with a dog the size of a baseball? Not unless you're using the dog as the ball."

"Dad-dy!"

"So let's go down to the shelter and find a dog big enough to fit that collar."

"Yay!"

"Now (and this is the part Barry hates) go get your shoes on while I tell your father the good news."

"Okay!" Lisa hops off the recliner and back into her father's arms, squeezing him so tight, it takes Barry's breath away. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Peanut. Get going. We're burning daylight."

Lisa jets past her father at incredible speed, racing upstairs to her bedroom while Barry strolls onto the porch to inform Leonard Snart that they are, in fact, going to adopt a dog. She stops at the top landing when she hears her father say, "I'm proud of you, Flash. You're making our little Bug very happy," and smiles.

Lisa loves her family.

Her entire family.

She unlocks her phone and dials the first number in her phone log.

It only rings once.

"So, Kiddo. Did it work?"

"A-ha. Just like you said, Uncle Ollie."

In his den at The Foundry, Oliver grins. "Good girl. Now, go get your dog. And make sure you send your mom and me tons of pictures when you do."

"Sure thing. And thanks!"

"You're welcome." Oliver hangs up the call and slips his phone back in his pocket. Sitting beside him on the sofa, a mildly amused Felicity shakes her head.

"Well, well, well. It looks like Leonard Snart may be rubbing off on you a tiny bit."

"Nonsense." He wraps an arm around his wife's shoulders and pulls her close. "I was a sneaky, conniving s.o.b. long before he and I met."

She nods. "Hmm. That's true. But I feel bad."

"Why? Don't you think Lisa deserves a dog?"

"Yeah, but Barry told us about that collar in confidence. Did you have to use it against them?"

"I didn't have to ..."

"We could have invited them over, and talked about it like adults," Felicity says, a slight reprimand in her tone.

"Absolutely." Oliver chuckles, imagining how uncomfortable it's going to be for Barry and Leonard to see their newest family member strutting around their house wearing that particular collar. "But this was more fun."


	6. Subversive

**When Barry discovers something dangerous hidden underneath their daughter's bed, he jumps to conclusions that prove the trust Len broke between them hasn't entirely healed.**

 _ **Notes:** **Written for the Coldflashweeks Bingo card prompt 'Father Len'.**_

"Did you have a good time at the museum today, Bug?" Len asks, fishing a ring of keys out of his pocket.

"Yup!" Lisa chirps, beaming at her father as if today, Friday April 12th, were Christmas. "Loads!"

"Really? It's only what? The fifty-six _hundredth_ time you've been there?"

"True, but I rarely get to go there with you." She takes his arm and hugs it tight. "Thanks so much for agreeing to chaperone this time."

Len stops messing with the front door and drops a kiss on the top of her head. "Any time. The Central City Museum happens to hold a special place in my heart. I'm sorry that I was nabbed by security for clearance before I could go in. I hope that wasn't too embarrassing for you."

"Nuh-uh! That was _awesome_! Watching you get interrogated by CCPD like some undercover super spy, knowing they were going to let you go the second they called Dad! But it wasn't entirely fair, either."

"Why's that?"

"Well, you got marked for being an _ex_ -criminal. But there are a bunch of kids in my class whose parents actually _are_ criminals. Like every day."

Len arches an eyebrow. "Like who?"

"Donna Bright's dad is insider trading. Liam's mom prints counterfeit coupons and sells them on the Internet. And pretty much every single one of Patty Roster's older brothers are selling drugs."

"You don't say …" Len files that information away, making a mental note to do a background check on the parents of everyone else in Lisa's grade. "That's good to know."

He finally gets his key in the lock and the door open. The second they do, they're greeted by a sizzle of red and a pair of fiery eyes.

"What is this!?" Barry demands, holding his hands open for Len and Lisa to see.

"What's what, Daddy?" Lisa asks, looking at her father strangely.

"Yeah. Don't play the pronoun game with us, Red. We just walked through the door."

" _This_!" Barry looks at his hands, but there's nothing in them. He rolls his eyes, zips back upstairs, and returns, holding something that looks suspiciously like a gun up to Len's face.

"Oh, _that_." Len grins. "That's …"

"… a _cold gun_! I know! I found it in Lisa's room! And it's _child sized_! I mean, where would you even get something like this? Actually, don't tell me! I'm sure you have all sorts of connections in the seedy black underworld of Central City …"

Len snickers. "Seedy black underworld? And you say _I_ talk like a comic book villain."

"… and if you tell me about them," Barry rants on, "I'm going to have to run out and round everyone up! _You_ included!"

"Daddy?" Len feels Lisa grab his hand and squeeze, genuine fear vibrating through her whole body.

"Now hold on, Red. Don't start jumping to any conclusions."

"How can I not when I find things like this hidden underneath Lisa's bed?"

"Why don't you ask me what that is before you start talking about dragging me off to Iron Heights … _in front of our daughter_?"

"I'm sorry, Lisa," Barry says to his frightened little girl. "I really am. But this is serious, Len! I know you like to play around with her, break into STAR Labs and Queen Tower, and we all indulge you. But there has to be a line! This isn't a toy and it isn't a game! This can have a very real effect on her life! We talked about that!"

"Yeah, we talked about it," Len says. "That's why I didn't give her a cold gun!"

"Oh yeah? Then how did she get this?"

"I built it!" Lisa interjects. "Mommy helped me!"

"I find it hard to believe that your mother would help you build a cold gun!"

"It's not a cold gun!"

"What is it then?"

"It's a polarizing deflector," Len declares, though not entirely square on what those words mean. The gun in Barry's hands is heavy and expensive – _that_ he knows. "Otherwise known as a digital beam steering device. Lisa designed it for the school science fair, and Felicity had Cisco build it. Lisa asked him to make it look like my cold gun because she thought it'd be cool."

"But I don't like the color," Lisa admits. "So I'm going to re-paint it. Pink, I think."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Barry asks.

"Because I wanted it to be a surprise! That's why I hid it under my bed. I didn't think you'd look there!"

"If you'd stop hiding Brussel sprouts under your bed, I wouldn't have to look under there!" Barry runs a hand through his hair and goes quiet. He's thinking, but he doesn't lift his eyes to look at them, and the expression on his face, Len can't read. It's a mixture of anger and confusion, sadness and defeat. It breaks Len's heart because he never intended this discussion to end this way – not with Barry looking like he's lost some huge battle when there wasn't one.

"Hey, Lisa?" Len puts a hand on his daughter's shoulder and steers her toward the kitchen. "Why don't you go grab yourself a snack while I have a little one-on-one with your father?"

"Yeah, okay," she says, taking her science project out of her father's hand along the way. "I'll need to give this a once over. Make sure it wasn't wrecked or anything."

After that remark, Barry's expression goes from defeated to downright fractured.

Len waits until Lisa rounds the corner to the next room before he speaks. "What's up with you, Red? You've been seriously on edge the past couple of days."

"I have not."

"Whatever. I know you weren't too thrilled about missing the field trip today."

Barry shrugs, but he still doesn't look at his husband. "I always go on the field trips. I've been going on them for years. But she wanted to take you this time around. No harm, no foul."

"I'm not buying that and you know it."

Barry shakes his head. Len puts a hand to his husband's chin, turning his face so he can see his eyes.

"Talk to me, Bare. Tell me what's bothering you."

Barry sighs. "I don't want to hurt your feelings. You don't deserve it."

"I'm a big boy. I think I can take it."

"It's just … when Felicity had Lisa and we brought her home, I had so many dreams, so many visions of how she'd grow up. How she'd turn out. When you took off, it was just me alone with our little girl, and for a while, she was my mini me. But she's growing up to be like you more and more every day. And that scares me a little."

"I wasn't always a criminal, Red. Once upon a time, I was a little kid like Lisa who wanted to grow up and become something other than my dad. Someone worth knowing. But I lost my way. I'm trying to go back to that. Marrying you, having Lisa, those were all steps in that direction. And I messed up. I know I did. But I'm back on the right track." Len tilts his head, looking at Barry through narrowed eyelids. "Would it be so bad if our daughter turned out more like me than you?"

"No, it wouldn't," Barry says quickly, genuinely. "I think I'm a little jealous that somehow you became the fun parent, and I ended up the strict parent."

"Oh, Red." Len wraps his arms around his husband's waist. "To be honest, I don't think either of us is the strict parent. I think you're better at making sure she eats her vegetables and gets to school on time. Otherwise, we're pretty much the same. A regular bowl of fun."

Barry shoots Len a confused look. "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or not."

"You should." Len pulls him close, kisses him softly on the lips. "And along the vein of being _fun parents_ , I recommend blowing off the rabbit food for tonight and ordering in. Pizza, chicken wings, something deep fried and dipped in chocolate ..."

Barry chuckles. "Not _that_ fun. You're having a salad with that."

"As long as it's a taco salad, it's all good."

"You know there's no such thing as a taco salad."

"There's no such thing as a Rocky Mountain Oyster, either, but you don't see that putting a dent in _that_ industry."

"Ugh!" Barry pulls a face in disgust. "Fine. But _you_ can order dinner. I don't have it in me to voluntarily order that much cholesterol."

"I remember a time when you'd eat that for _breakfast_."

"That's before we had Lisa." Barry shrugs. "Priorities change. People change."

"Yes, they do. Please try to remember that more often, will ya?"

Barry nods, then zips away upstairs to finish clearing out rotting food stuffs from under his daughter's bed before dinner time.

With her father gone, Lisa returns to the living room, apple in one hand, her science project in the other. _Barry is right_ , Len thinks. She's gone from straight-laced future forensic scientist to Rogue-in-training in a few short years, and Len does feel guilty about that. But he feels a tremendous sense of pride, too. Lisa has positive influences out the ying-yang – Barry, Felicity, Oliver, Cisco, Dr. Snow, Kara Zor-El, all the heavy hitters. A few of them even have their own trading cards. She's being raised by a community of the smartest, most law abiding and compassionate people on the planet, and it shows. She's the smartest in her class, and well on her way to skipping enough grades that she might graduate college before she turns eleven.

But somewhere in that exceptional young girl, along with the bright and shining future as a hero and the potential for a Nobel Prize, there's room for him, too.

She's the most perfect human that's ever entered his life. She's never judged him for being low brow or for his past.

Or for the company he keeps.

She's the coolest person he's ever met in the whole damned universe, and he gets the privilege of calling her his daughter.

Len gives his daughter a side-eyed smirk when she shoulders her gun. "Well, then … should we tell Daddy about the matching parkas we bought?"

"No way! Did you see that vein throbbing in his neck?" she says, taking a bite of her apple. "I'm not sure he can handle that right now."


	7. Fatherhood

**Summary:**

 **It's been six weeks since the arrival of baby Lisa, and Len isn't exactly handling things well. He seems to be pulling away from his husband and daughter, acting less like himself, and Barry is beginning to wonder - did they make a mistake bringing a baby into their lives?**

 **Notes:**

 **So, I would put this at the super beginning of the series. Just a peek into where they began, and some of the issues Len had with the idea of being a father.**

" _Waaaahhhhh_!"

…

" _Waaaahhhhh_!"

…

" _WAAAAHHHHH_!"

" _AAAAHHH!_ Barry!"

"What?" Barry grumbles, barely opening his eyes even though he's wide awake.

"Your daughter's up, and she's calling you."

"She's _our_ daughter. But if you want to get technical, biologically, she's _your_ daughter. _Probably why she complains so damned much ..._ "

" _Waaaahhhhh_!"

"Ugh!" Len rolls onto his stomach, dragging his pillow over his head. "Why were we so flippin' eager to bring her home anyway? The hospital staff had this baby care thing on lock. We could have gone back and picked her up when she was what? Three? Four?"

" _Len_!"

" _Waaaahhhhh_!"

"Or you know what?" Len continues. "Felicity's her mom. Why can't she take her for the night shift and we pick her up in the morning?"

"We have full custody! That's how surrogates work! Besides, Felicity lives all the way in Star City!"

"You say there like you can't zip over there in three seconds and back."

"Not with Lisa. It's not safe for the baby."

"How do you know if you don't even try?"

" _Waaaahhhhh_!"

"I mean, Cisco can just whip up a pod or something you can carry her in and …"

"Come on, big guy." Barry gives Len a shove that about shoots him out of bed. "Time's a-wasting."

"What? _Me_?"

"A-ha."

"I'm not even awake yet!"

"You're talking to me."

"It only takes half a brain cell to hold a conversation with you."

" _Waaaahhhhh_!"

"You know the drill." Barry climbs out of bed, dragging Len by the arm. "She either needs a change or a bottle."

"See? You've got it all figured out." Len struggles against Barry's iron grip in an attempt to scurry back under the covers, but he's not going to win. Regardless of his deceptively slender frame, Barry has that pesky Speed Force on his side. It may not be the same as super strength, but the way Barry manipulates it, it _does_ tip the balance in his favor. "So why don't you just have at it."

"Because, Len. It's _your turn_!"

"Oh, come on, Bare!" Len wrenches his arm free, but only because his husband lets him go. "You can run in there, change her, rock her back to sleep, and be back here in ten seconds flat. I don't get what the problem is!"

"Because that's not the way we should do it! It's been six weeks already, and I can count on one hand the amount of times you've gotten up to take care of her. Waking up in the middle of the night is a pain in the ass, but it's also important. It's a chance to _bond with our baby_!"

"I'll bond with her during daylight hours," Len grumbles, staring wistfully at their mussed bed with its comfy sheets and blankets.

" _Waaaahhhhh_!"

"It's daylight somewhere." Barry puts his husband in a halfhearted half-nelson and leads him to the nursery. Len stops resisting. Better to get this over with so he can get his ass back to sleep. He needs about eighteen hours of it to keep up with their baby. That's part of why he's making such a big fuss about getting out of bed.

Having baby Lisa in the house, Len feels himself slowing up.

Len's not an idiot. He knows he's getting on in years, but he doesn't want to admit it. Who does? Hooking up with Barry on the sly, and then _marrying_ him, had been such an ego boost in that department. To have a man half his age want him made Len feel like a teenager again. And a superhero to boot? If Len's head gets any bigger, he won't be able to fit into his t-shirts. But whereas Barry doesn't seem to ever run down, Len finds himself getting winded more and more every day. Len has spent the past few decades planning heists, running from the cops, fighting Team Flash, even rescuing the crew of the Waverider and multiple Earths from destruction.

It took becoming a father to make him feel his age.

" _Waaaahhhhh_!"

Three steps into Lisa's room and the two men know exactly what's bothering their baby.

"Phew!" Len groans, head jerking involuntarily to the side. "Good night! What have you been feeding her, Bare? Gravy?"

"Baby formula."

"Is it _expired_?"

"No," Barry says, offended, though he never thought to check. That can't be the issue. He bought it yesterday. Baby poop just smells … a _lot_.

" _Waaaahhhhh_! _Waa-AAHHHHH_!"

Lisa's wails seem to rise in pitch when her fathers enter the room. Len expects Barry to blow past him and rescue their screaming infant, but he doesn't. Len looks over his shoulder at Barry, of absolutely no help whatsoever, then back to his daughter, miserable and probably as exhausted as he is, with a load of wet yuck stuck to her butt.

"She needs you, Len," Barry whispers.

"I don't see why when she's got _you_."

"She needs the both of us. And right now, you're up. Do your thing."

"You want me to steal her a diamond?"

"Change. your. daughter. I'm not letting you put a foot back into bed until you do."

Len sighs. All he wants at the moment is to climb into bed and slip back into the open arms of unconsciousness, but his obnoxious husband won't let him. Tomorrow. He'd be awake and raring to go tomorrow. He glances at the Strawberry Shortcake clock hanging on the wall. 2 a.m. He sighs deeper. It _is_ tomorrow. "Fine," he says, trudging toward the crib. "I'm on it."

Barry leans against the door frame and watches as his adorably grumpy husband plods across their daughter's pastel pink throw rug, gathering things he'll need as he goes. Normally Barry would toss himself on the grenade and do it, but Len hasn't been himself lately. He's not quite as witty, definitely not as devious. He sleeps more than usual, he has no appetite, and he stresses over the tiniest things. Plus, his sex drive has gone straight into the toilet.

The first two weeks after Lisa came home, things went fine. They had a rhythm going. They traded off duties - Barry went to work at STAR Labs during the day and Len stayed home with the baby. When Barry came home, he took over with Lisa so Len could have some time to himself. Len has other pursuits. Team Flash and Green Arrow both pick his brain as their 'resident criminal consultant', but he said he was perfectly happy as a stay-at-home dad. They began to feel like real parents. But bit by bit, something in Len started to drift away. He didn't always answer his phone, and Barry found himself racing home to check on him. Things would be fine when he got there – Lisa fed and content, the house generally clean, but Len …

Some days he'd be working himself to the point of exhaustion. Other days, he'd be staring at Lisa with an unreadable expression on his face.

He just wasn't _Len_ anymore.

Looking at the situation through the lens of a scientist, Len seems to be suffering from postpartum depression. It wouldn't be too unusual. Paternal postpartum depression is rare, but it does happen. And Len has the classic signs. He's irritable. He seems at a loss in his role as a parent, determined every time the baby cries that something's wrong with her.

Or that she hates him.

He doesn't show up uninvited to STAR Labs anymore, nor has he tried to break into The Foundry in weeks.

He's been pulling farther and farther away from life as a whole.

Barry would welcome finding out that Len had PPPD. At least, if Barry knew the cause of his behavior, they could decide on a course of action – medication, meditation, therapy.

Whatever's going on with him, Barry has been praying Len isn't regretting their decision to bring Lisa into their lives.

"Okay, little bug," Len mumbles, negotiating their daughter's kicky feet and unbuttoning her onesie, holding his breath when he breaches the seal of cotton holding back the bulk of the stench. "Let's see what's going on … _good Lord_!" Len pulls a face, blowing a raspberry through tight lips. Lisa stops crying. She stops kicking. She stares up at her father with wide, wet eyes and an o-shaped mouth.

"You need to stop eating cement, girl," Len continues in a softer, teasing voice. "We can pave the streets with this BM."

Lisa waves closed fists. Her lips tremble. Barry takes a step forward, afraid she might burst into tears again, but she doesn't. The corners of her mouth lift slightly. It's not the biggest or the brightest smile. It could also be gas. But when Len sees it, his whole face lights up in a way that Barry has been missing for weeks.

"Yeah. You might have your Papa beat in the _full of poop_ department."

Barry's smile drops when he remembers that Len refers to _him_ as Papa in front of Lisa. " _Hey_!"

"There you go," Len coos as he cleans Lisa up and puts a new diaper on, wrapping the old one and tossing it in the trash without looking. "That's it. Nice and clean. Feels a lot better, don't it?"

Lisa kicks her legs in response and Len chuckles, carefully sliding one leg at a time back inside her onesie. He buttons her up, then wraps her in her blanket, swaddling her meticulously the way the nurses at the hospital taught them. He considers her a minute, rocking her with his palm pressed lightly against her tummy, but then he picks her up and walks the room with her, swaying in a lazy two-step towards the rocking chair in the corner.

"You know, if you leave her, she'll probably go back to sleep."

"Meh, I'm already awake, and I don't think I'm going back anytime soon _thank you very much_." Len slides into the wooden chair, setting it rocking back and forth with his heels buried into the rug. Barry smiles, watching the loves of his life sit together in silence – Lisa blinking up at her dad with drooping eyelids, Len gazing at his daughter as if she's the biggest payoff he's ever scored.

"Feeling any better?" Barry asks, padding across the room to be closer to the two of them.

"A little bit … _maybe_. The jury's still out."

"You know, you're really good at this."

"You think so?" Len swallows hard. "Because sometimes I wonder if …" He stops himself short of spilling his guts and giving voice to every doubt he's had since little Lisa came home. She's nothing like his sister was when her parents brought her home, that's for sure. Regardless of Lisa Snart _now_ , Lisa as a baby rarely made a peep. Or maybe he's just not remembering things clearly. A dark cloud seemed to descend on their house shortly after, one that moved into his brain, obscuring certain details he'd rather not relive. No, his boisterous daughter is nothing like his sister, name notwithstanding.

He just prays that, in the long run, he's nothing like his father.

"Well, this daddy thing has its moments, I guess."

"Yes, sir." Barry bites his tongue. _Close. He was so close._ But whatever's bothering Len is in there somewhere. And if Len wants to talk about it, he will. Barry just has to give him time.

"Hey, I know she just dropped a huge deuce, but do you think … she might be hungry?"

"I don't think so." Barry puts a gentle finger to her lower lip to see if she'll suck, but she doesn't. Her eyelids flutter shut. She takes a deep breath in, lets it out, and just like that, she's asleep.

In under a minute, and with no Speed Force powers necessary.

" _I'm_ hungry," Len says.

And even though Barry is thrilled that Len's hungry after days of living on pretzel rods and Near Beer, he recoils. "How the hell can you be hungry with that smell still hanging in the air?"

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. My hunger knows no bounds."

"Neither does this stench." Barry yanks the waste basket liner out of the trash, eyes flashing with a thin thread of red electricity.

Len's brows pull together. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want this in the house." Barry's voice cracks, static echoing as he phases with energy.

"Shhh! You're gonna wake the baby!"

Barry steps out into the hallway and closes the door. Even through three inches of wood, the room crackles with the familiar heat of Barry tapping into the Speed Force. The seam around the door glows with a bright orange aura. It blinks out, but a second later, it comes back, and Barry re-enters the room. He puts a white paper bag down at Len's feet, taking a seat beside it on the floor. He opens it and reaches in, the rank odor in the room overwhelmed by the delicious scent of meat and onions.

"What's that?" Len asks, staring at the bulging bag dubiously.

"A double double animal style," Barry says after a bite. "You said you were hungry."

"There aren't any In 'N Outs in Central City."

"No, but there's one in San Diego."

"And _that's_ where you threw out her dirty diaper?"

"Yup. In the dumpster outside the 7-11 next door."

"Don't you think that's overkill?"

"I don't really feel like waking up in the morning to the smell of stale diaper, do you?"

"Fair enough."

"Besides, you can consider it an apology for losing sleep," Barry says, throwing his husband a wink. Len smirks.

"Well then." He reaches down for his share of the meal, but he doesn't take his eyes off his baby girl. Not for a second. "If this is the way night time changing duty is going to go, I'm definitely on board."


End file.
